On We March
by WideEyedDreamer01
Summary: Recent developments in neurology means there's now a test for schizophrenia. Reid/Morgan. Fluffy slash.


**Just a quick one-shot. Still taking recs for my other criminal minds story!**

* * *

"You don't have to come, you know," Reid says over breakfast that morning. "If you don't want to." Morgan regards him impassively over his cup of black coffee. He's perched right on the edge of his seat, brown eyes wide and nearing on hyperactive. His tall, gangly body is vibrating with energy and it seems that any second he may combust. Morgan takes a moment to study him, noting first the dark- darker than usual- circles under Reid's eyes, the pale skin. Neither of them had slept last night, though neither would admit it. His gaze fell next to the untouched eggs and orange juice Spencer had pushed around, the nervous tapping of his fingers. He registered in the back of his mind that reid was wearing the tie he'd given him for his thirtieth- the one he'd also been wearing on their first date and the day Morgan had missed a bullet to the heart by about two inches. Supersition? Perhaps, Morgan thinks. He glances at the clock, it's seven. Hotch has given them the entire day off for this, a fact which betrays how seriously the team is taking this new development.

"We should go," Morgan says quietly.

"Derek," Spencer says, his voice plaintive, afraid, imploring. "Please- you know you don't have to-"

Derek silences him with a kiss across the table, long and slow and reassuring. Slowly, Reid relaxes, his shoulders loosening slightly. By the time they break away for air, there's a slight flush in Reid's cheeks that makes him look less like a walking corpse.

"Eat your eggs. I mean it," Morgan chides. Spencer's eyes widen.

"Eat your eggs? Is that the most reassuring thing you have to say?" he squeaks, incredulous. Morgan fixes him with the Look.

"No, genius. I was getting there. Reid, I know you're afraid. I'"-he stops. "I'm afraid, too," he confesses in a quieter tone. He grabs the smaller man's hand and rubs slow circles into his palm. "But I will never stop loving you. I will never abandon you." He pauses. "I don't care if this test shows us you're actually half-Martian, even though I'll lose fifty bucks to Rossi. Whatever happens, we will be okay."

"I love you," Reid says, his voice small and horribly vulnerable. Derek exhales, then smiles.

"I love you too. Now eat your eggs." Spencer summons the courage to smile back, while they both pretend that it's ok.

It isn't. It really, _really_ isn't.

* * *

They don't drive, in the end. Derek tries first and doesn't even make it out of the parking lot with out nearly rear-ending his neighbour's volvo. he's too busy glancing at Reid, who is staring back at their apartment as if he's being carried out in his coffin. That thought made Derek sick, so he decided that Spencer could drive, it would be a good distraction.

Spencer makes it out of the parking lot and carreers into the intersection without looking, making Derek regret his breakfast and the population of the road scream obscenities.

They take a taxi instead.

And then there's the hospital and Spencer looks like he's about to faint. A well-intentioned nurse mistakes Spencer's pallour and swaying for the signs of dangerous low blood sugar, and offers him a wheelchair. Morgan has to physically stop Reid from punching her, no doubt because he remembers his mother's wheelchair the day she was admitted to Bennington.

Now they're waiting in the private room for Dr. Amelie Parker. Spencer is bouncing up and down so violently that Derek fears he might take off any second now, run down the hall, down, down the stairs, out of the hospital and back home, because anything is better than this waiting, the not knowing might be better than the truth...

Derek swallows back a lump of fear in his throat at the thought of what could be.

_Spencer's brilliant mind confused and lethargic. His sweet gentle strength marred by fits of paranoia and fear, oh, god, the fear. Spencer afraid. Derek unable to protect him, unable to shelter him from the cruelty of his own mind. Seeing the same lost expression on Spencer's beautiful face as Derek saw on his mother's the last time they visited..._

He blinks back the panic and remembers his mother's stern words. He remembers his silent promise to Spencer last night, while his lover had slept fitfully and Derek had stayed awake if only to chase away his nightmares. His promise that only death would part them. That nothing would ever tear them apart. That wild horses and trolls and dragons and the most terrible creatures on earth would not get in their way. That whatever the verdict was, it would not beat them, it would not beat Spencer. spencer's chest is rising and falling rapidly, as if he's been running.

_And he has, if you think about it. He's been running from this moment his entire life._

The door clicks open, and a short, serious woman steps inside. She's red-haired and pale, nearer to forty than thirty-five, and has an air of quiet calmness Derek wishes was contagious.

"Dr. Reid." Her tone is clipped as she shakes Reid's hand. "Mr. Morgan." She shakes his, too. Her grip is firm, her hands are warm. Derek resists the urge to profile her just to take his mind off of this.

"Let's talk about this test," she says quietly. "The nurse will be in shortly with the results of your blood test," she informs Reid. "I trust you've read every existing article about this test?" Reid nods.

"And published a few," he says, his voice quiet. The attempt at humor, the bravery, makes Morgan's heart swell. She nods.

"Yes. Let's just make sure we're on the same page. This test is by no means conclusive," she informs them. "What we've discovered is that a certain gene, NX232, is imperative to brain function in the hippocampus. Damage to the hippocampus is considered an important factor in the onset of schizophrenia. Research has concluded that two recessive alleles of this gene severely weaken the hippocampus' brain function. Eighty-seven percent of clinically diagnosed schizophrenics tested positive for the double recessive."

"Ma'am." Derek spoke. "What percentage of the general population have this recessive gene and do not develop schizophrenia?"

"Clinical testing is by no means complete, but rough estimates conclude that around 7% of the general populaiton of non-schizophrenics also have this gene. So you see that this is by no means a conclusive test." There's a knock at the door, and a pleasant-faced nurse, young with brown hair, peeks in.

"Are you ready?" Dr. Parker's clinical tone softens somewhat. Reid nods wordlessly, sliding his palm into Dereks. The nurse hands Parker a brown clipboard, and Parker in turn offers it to Reid. He shies away as if burned.

"N-no. Would you? Please?" He asks the woman, his voice trembling slightly. She nods carefully, turning over to the second page. Reid's body is stiff with fear, his head resting on Morgan's shoulder. His eyes are unusually bright, but his breathing has slowed. There's a brief rustle of papers, and then the doctor looks up at the pair.

"Doctor Reid, you've tested... _negative_ for the recessive gene," she informs him, and Spencer shoots out of his chair.

"W-what?" He asks, incredulous. She gives him a smile, a broad, proper one. Her eyes crease, and the worry lines in her forehead disappear briefly.

"Congratulations. Looks like you're totally normal, after all. You've one dominant, one recessive allele."

"So..." Reid trails off.

"So the recessive alelle will not make the slightest difference. Your hippocampus function is completely normal." Reid pauses for a second, and then flings himself at the smaller woman with abandon, a mess of arms and legs as he gives her a huge and sincere hug. She blushes, looking pleased.

"Now, now. I didn't do anything," she tells him, but her face is softer. Morgan laughs.

"Hey, pretty boy," he teases with a mock-pout. "Do I need to get jealo-_mmph_," he finishes as Spencer attaches himself to Derek's lips.

"I'll-erm, see you later," the Doctor says. "And congratulations, Dr. Reid." Reid gives her a thumbs up, still busy with his invasion of Morgan's face. she laughs, and disappears. When they finally break apart, Spencer is crying a little.

"Hey," Morgan says gently. Reid gives him a thousand-watt smile.

"H-hey," he manages, stepping into Morgan's embrace. Eventually, they make it out of the room, down the corridor, hands still tightly entwined. Morgan fires off a text message to Hotch with the hand that Reid hasn't kidnapped, and they step out into the sunshine.

"Morgan," Reid says, a look of childlike wonder on his face.

"Mmm?" Derek says as he waves down a taxi. Spencer grins.

"It's going to be okay."

And this time, it really, _really_ is.

_-Fin._


End file.
